Suddenly, there was a loud boom and a cannon ball cut a bloody path through the soldiers who had just entered a street right in front of Napoleon. An instant later the ball struck the inside slope of the rampart a short distance from Napoleon and Berthier, flinging sand over them. Napoleon blinked and brushed the dirt away from his face before running to peer round the corner of the street into the heart of the village, where a cloud of smoke eddied around the monstrous muzzle of a vast gun. Already the Mamelukes were busy ramming another charge down the barrel while two men approached, struggling under the burden of a huge ball. A fearsome weapon indeed, thought Napoleon, but its very size was its biggest weakness. It could cover the street, but it was far too large to be manoeuvrable.
‘You!’ Napoleon beckoned to a corporal. ‘Find your company commander. Tell him I want him to work forward down a side street and take that gun. He’s to place a man here to warn others to keep clear. Understand?’
The corporal saluted and turned away to find his captain, just as the gun boomed out again, this time with greater elevation, so that the ball roared close overhead and Napoleon felt the wind of its passage before it ploughed through a group of men and blew out a section of the breastwork on the rampart.
‘Sweet Jesus . . .’ Berthier said softly as he looked up and saw the mutilated bodies and torn limbs that marked the place where the ball had struck.
Napoleon ignored him, and the carnage behind Berthier, and started forward until he reached the men assembling at the edge of the village a short distance along from the street covered by the gun.The young captain had drawn his sword and was issuing his orders to his men.
‘No firing.We go down this alley as fast as we can. Don’t stop for anything. I’ll shoot the first man I see looting. Once we are parallel to the cannon, we’ll take them with the bayonet.’ He paused as he caught sight of his general. ‘Sir, what are you doing here? It’s dangerous.’
Napoleon grinned. ‘You tell me where it isn’t dangerous today!’
The men laughed along with their officer and then, as the captain led them into the alley, they followed with bayonets raised. Napoleon and Berthier went after them and Napoleon felt his pulse racing with the familiar feeling of excitement that only came when his life was at risk. He thought briefly of Josephine, and how she might react if he fell in this battle. The idea of her sweet grief spurred him on and he ran headlong behind his soldiers. The captain halted his company at a broad intersection and motioned to them to take cover along the sides of the street. Napoleon crept over to him and squatted down at his side.
‘The gun’s down there, sir.’The captain nodded to the corner. ‘Not far.’
‘Then what are we waiting for?’ Napoleon drew his sword. ‘Give the order, Captain.’
The other man nodded, rose up and drew a deep breath. ‘Company! On your feet!’ He paused a moment as his men gathered themselves, clutching their muskets tightly. Then he raised his sword and swept it down towards the street that led to the gun. ‘Charge!’
They dashed forward, and Napoleon ran with them, sword held low to prevent it from accidentally stabbing any of his men. As he rounded the corner, he saw the Mameluke artillery crew throw down their equipment and snatch out their curved swords and pistols. There was no time to organise a defence and only a few managed to fire their weapons before the French were in amongst them, thrusting with their bayonets and clubbing at the enemy with the heavy butts of their muskets. It was all over even before Napoleon reached the gun.The Mamelukes had been cut down in the rush and the soldiers finished off the wounded with quick thrusts to the throat or heart.
As in every other village Napoleon had seen in Egypt, a mosque faced on to the market square and he beckoned to Berthier to join him as he made his way through the arched entrance. Inside it was cool and gloomy and as his eyes adjusted Napoleon was aware of movement across the floor of the building, and saw bodies stretched out before him. A few of the enemy orderlies treating their wounded glanced up with frightened expressions, but Napoleon and Berthier ignored them and made for the base of the tower to climb the steps to the roof.
From that vantage point they could see out over the entire village and its line of defences. Here and there Napoleon caught sight of his men in the streets or on the roofs as they steadily fought their way through Embabeh. The Mameluke defenders were falling back towards the river bank, and would surely escape to join the rest of their army. If Murad Bey was beaten today, it was vital that he escaped with as few men as possible to continue the struggle. The future of France’s interests in Egypt depended on winning an annihilating victory. Napoleon pointed to a narrow spur of rock jutting out parallel to the river.
‘Berthier, see that high ground there? I want that taken as swiftly as possible.’ He thought quickly. ‘Send Marmont. He has a brigade just outside the village. Tell him to cover the bank and hold back any attempt the enemy makes to escape along the river.’>
‘Yes, sir.’ Berthier hurried down the steps, leaving Napoleon to pull out his small pocket telescope. He snapped it out to its full extent and turned to see how Desaix was coping on the right flank. The enemy cavalry had drawn back to regroup, but even as Napoleon watched they edged forward, building up speed until they were galloping straight towards the unbroken French squares. He could not help admiring the courage of those gaudily dressed warriors. On another battlefield, against a less professional army, they would have swept all before them. But not today.
Napoleon turned to look at the men of Bon’s division drawn up outside Embabeh. It was not long before he saw Marmont’s brigade, nearest the ramparts, turn to the right and begin quick-marching round the perimeter of the village. As it passed the section of the fortifications still in enemy hands the Mamelukes opened fire on the French column and Napoleon saw several fall before Marmont gave the order for his men to break into a run and the column hurried on, kicking up a billowing haze of dust as they made for the low ridge Napoleon had spotted earlier. Already, the Mamelukes had been pressed back to the far side of the village and the first of them were hurrying along the bank of the Nile towards safety.
Marmont deployed his men into line at once, and then marched down from the ridge to cut off the enemy’s line of escape. As the Mamelukes continued to emerge from the south end of the village they were confronted by a solid formation of French soldiers. One of the enemy commanders rallied his men and they charged Marmont’s brigade. He let them close to within fifty paces before he gave the order to fire and a bank of smoke instantly hid the French from view. Napoleon saw the Mameluke charge stumble to a halt as scores of the warriors were cut down, including the man who had led them.They stood their ground for a moment, drawing their pistols and firing into the smoke. Then another volley tore through them and they broke and ran, in their desperation heading for the only remaining means of escape, the Nile.
They streamed down the banks, discarding their weapons and as much of their heavy clothing as possible, then plunged into the muddy shallows, wading out to the deeper water before striking out towards the far bank. As Marmont’s brigade advanced towards the desperate fugitives a breathless Berthier re-joined Napoleon on the roof. He looked towards the river, glittering with the spray splashed up by the hundreds of men fleeing into the current. Many were cut down by musket fire from Marmont’s men.